


Untitled 6

by maybe_qchan



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:53:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_qchan/pseuds/maybe_qchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some memories and thoughts of Dipper from Mabel’s point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled 6

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on tumblr February 9th 2014

=====================================

  
When we were little, my twin brother Dipper would pack a backpack full of clothing, sandwhiches, candybars and comic books and a flashlight and go out camping.   
  
Sometimes he’d ask me to come with him and it was nice.   
  
We’d stay up late, listening to the hum of the trees and the whine of the mosquitos around our tent, telling each other stories of pirates and ghosts and Atlanteans and vampires and lost civilizations deep, deep under the earth.   
  
If it was really cold at night, sometimes we shared a sleeping bag.  
  
His breathing was always calm when he slept. He never snored.  
  
  
  
He’s actually a huge dork.  
  
He’s obsessed with old adventure novels like King Solomon’s Mines and Lost Horizon as well as mystery stuff like The Famous Five or When You Reach Me.   
  
He reads comic books and plays videogames and watches a lot of documentaries on TV.  
  
He’s seen every Disney animation there is and rewatches The Black Cauldron and 101 Dalmatians at least once every year.  
  
He’s really good at thumb wrestling and movie trivia and the crossword puzzles we do together.  
  
  
  
One time when Dipper’d been out camping, he limped back home covered in dirt, with a huge gash on his arm and missing both of his shoes and most of his clothing.  
  
He’d explained he’d been attacked by a bear and had had to distract it to escape.  
  
His hat had actually been stolen by a group of squirrels that had taken it up into their tree, probably planning to use it for their nest.  
  
He’d lost both of his shoes trying to throw them at the hat hanging off a branch.   
  
He’d tried to climb up to get his shoes and hat back, and had managed to get his shirt torn mostly off when he fell out of the tree.  
  
Mom didn’t let him go camping in the woods anymore after that, so we settled for putting up a tent in our backyard every now and then.   
  
It wasn’t the same, but it was still nice, being able to sneak into the kitchen for sandwhiches if we got too hungry.  
  
  
  
One year when we were visiting Gravity Falls and Grunkle Stan, Dipper sort of managed to set the kitchen on fire while we were improvising some dishes.   
  
The kitchen was fine, but we ruined a perfectly good stove.  
  
Grunkle Stan didn’t let Dipper cook after that.  
  
I still tease him about setting his breakfast cereal on fire like Homer Simpson.  
  
  
  
When either of us got sick, the other would stay with them.  
  
We slept in the same bed and brought water and medicine if needed.  
  
My brother would gently stroke my back with one hand and my head with the other when my stomach was sore or if I had a high fever and was shivering.  
  
It was one of the most soothing feelings I’ve known in my life.  
  
Usually the other got sick in turn shortly after that.  
  
Sometimes mom would have to struggle to keep us separated.  
  
We stopped doing it when we got older.  
  
I mean we still brought water and medicine and food.  
  
But not like.. cuddle in the same bed.  
  
  
  
My brother is the only person on the planet who has managed wound himself twice with a piece of bread.  
  
He once accidentally poked a hole in his finger with one of those baguettes that are shaped like a wheat stalk.  
  
He insisted the pointy end was really sharp and the crust baked rock hard.  
  
He’s also managed to cut his lip eating rye bread.  
  
I don’t really know the details of how that happened, he refuses to talk about it.  
  
My brother has also wounded himself with a tangerine.  
  
He said he’d been trying to pinch the little thick white pith to pull it off, and it had somehow dug under his thumbnail as he’d squeezed too much, causing him to bleed.  
  
He’d refused to touch tangerines or citrus fruit in general after that.  
  
He said the juice had stung more than anything he’d ever felt.  
  
  
  
We’re pretty evenly matched in fighting games.  
  
We play all sorts of fighters together, but he says he likes Street Fighter Alpha 2 best.  
  
I think he just has a crush on Sakura.  
  
This would explain why he also likes Rival Schools so much.  
  
Whenever we play Super Mario Kart, he always picks Koopa.  
  
We’ve played through the entirety of Demon’s Souls as a team, taking turns.  
  
Whenever he died, I took over.  
  
Whenever I died, he took over.  
  
We decided on equipment and stat levelling together.  
  
We both hated the Valley of Defilement.  
  
After several tries, it was eventually Dipper who beat the False King.  
  
He still let me pick which ending we took.  
  
I went with putting the Old One back to its slumber.   
  
I didn’t have the heart to attack the maiden in black.  
  
It would have broken his heart too.  
  
Sometimes we like to do weird stuff with our games.  
  
Like we’ve played Soul Calibur with those Sega fishing rod controllers.  
  
We’ve played Gradius V on a dance mat, which was a lot of fun.  
  
One of us would handle the directions of the ship with their feet, the other would handle firing, powerup selection and options.  
  
Whenever we game overed, we’d switch.  
  
I like playing as The Mole in Monaco, I tend to make holes into every wall in a level.  
  
Dipper prefers to be meticulous and stealthy, hiding in bushes and using disguises.  
  
He gets so visibly annoyed at me when I attract the attention of practically every guard on the floor and then lead them straight back to his location, like some kind of aggressive french conga line.  
  
He never loses his temper, though.  
  
Never walks away.  
  
  
  
It’s not like we don’t get into fights at times.  
  
We can get into arguments over the smallest things.  
  
Usually the fights are not really about what sets them off.  
  
We’ve said some pretty mean things to each other throughout the years.  
  
Things I regret.  
  
Things I’m fairly sure he still feels awful about.  
  
We always make up afterwards, though.  
  
I couldn’t stay mad at him no matter what he does.  
  
Aaand he seems to forgive me for just about anything, something I’m really grateful for.  
  
  
  
He couldn’t stand any of the guys I’ve liked.  
  
He always found some reason why he thinks I shouldn’t try dating them.  
  
"Too tall, he’d look down on you constantly"  
  
"Too thin, he doesn’t appreciate good food… so he wouldn’t cook for you"  
  
"He doesn’t wash his laundry, he just turns his underwear inside out"  
  
"His jokes don’t make you laugh at all"  
  
"He wouldn’t quote The Blues Brothers with you, he hates that movie"  
  
"He doesn’t like Wall-E"  
  
"His birthday is too close ours, he would just forget about yours"  
  
Like he was one to talk.  
  
None of the girls he’s had a crush on in school had any kind of sense of humour.  
  
They wouldn’t appreciate his kind nature or his intellect or how funny he is.  
  
Well, I guess there was Wendy.  
  
But he got over her pretty fast and now they just seem like good friends, thankfully.  
  
  
  
When we were 16, our whole family took a trip to Italy.  
  
Flying economy was really cramped.  
  
Dipper let me take the window seat and he sat by the aisle.  
  
Few hours into the flight I had to go to the bathroom, but Dipper had fallen asleep.  
  
Instead of waking him up, I’d tried to step between his legs and sneak out without him noticing.  
  
As I’d been right on top of him, the guy in front of us had decided to recline their seat.  
  
The back of the seat moving had made me lose my balance and pushed me right into my brother’s lap.  
  
In his panic, waking up to someone suddenly landing on top of him like that, he’d managed to backhand his right eye and sent our water bottle flying, spraying water on about two rows of people in front of us as well as ourselves.  
  
I remember how flushed both of our faces were afterwards, as we toweled each other dry and kept our heads down to avoid the murderous scowls.  
  
We’d had a really hard time containing our giggling.  
  
Both of us breaking out in full laughter just seemed like a rude thing to do in that moment.  
  
  
  
Almost a year later my brother got into a fight in school and was sent to the principal’s office.  
  
They said he’d punched an older boy from another class in the cafeteria.  
  
He got a black eye and a broken lip from the whole thing.  
  
He never talked to me about what happened.  
  
Something the guy had said or done had really pissed him off, though.  
  
He only gave me a look that was like a mix between sadness and anger at the memory.  
  
Like he wanted to tell me but couldn’t.  
  
Like he was ashamed of himself.  
  
It was silly, but at the time I’d somehow thought maybe it was about me.  
  
  
  
We stayed up one night to rewatch Trading Places.  
  
Quoting all our favourite lines.  
  
Mimicking Winthorpe’s Santa snarl in unison.  
  
At one point he went to the kitchen to get us some more soda and chocolate.  
  
When he got back, he plopped down next to me, but the bounce made my half empty soda glass tip over and it almost fell to the floor.  
  
We both lunged for it at the same time and I managed to catch it first.  
  
Because of the way I leaned towards the glass, at that angle his hand kinda shot up my shirt.  
  
And maybe touched somewhere it shouldn’t have.  
  
And maybe I kinda yelped and we kinda spilled the popcorn bowl all over the living room floor.  
  
His face was a perfect shade of a tomato and he could only blurt out panicked noises that vaguely sounded like apologies.  
  
Luckily he’d calmed down after we got done cleaning up so we were able to finish the movie.  
  
He was still pink for the rest of the film.  
  
  
  
I was studying in a different state for a while.  
  
One night in the dorm I saw this one commercial on TV and it set off a bunch of memories.  
  
I started missing my brother so much I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  
  
I just sent him a little text and almost immediately after it he called me.  
  
At first I couldn’t even say anything to him till I started crying and told him I miss him terribly.  
  
He actually drove all the way over that night to visit me.  
  
It was like a four hour drive and he arrived really late into the night.  
  
I remember he held me till I fell asleep, stroking my hair like he used to when I was little and got sick.  
  
He went back home in the morning.  
  
The little look he gave me when he got in the car, it felt like everything was always going to be alright so long as I had my brother.  
  
  
  
I kissed him on the eve of our 24th birthday.  
  
We’d held a little sort of private party on the previous evening, like we usually do.   
  
There’s a little platform on our roof, where we would usually climb to stargaze.  
  
We’d both drank a few cans of cider and were just enjoying the evening breeze, watching the skies.  
  
His hand had found mine and we were remembering things and sounds and songs and words and smells and thoughts and feelings.  
  
He’d said something that made me laugh and shove him and he’d kinda put his hand on my shoulder and smiled.  
  
And then I’d just leaned in and kissed him.  
  
It hadn’t been sisterly at all.  
  
It hadn’t been brief.  
  
After a moment my hands had been around his neck and in his hair and it was only then that he’d gently stopped me.  
  
It hadn’t been like a push away, it was more like he’d realized what we were doing and asked me to wait a sec.  
  
His eyes had looked confused.  
  
And scared.  
  
I know I must have looked the same because after searching my face, he’d slowly smiled.  
  
And I hadn’t seen him smile like that since we flew to Italy.  
  
  
  
I don’t know what’s going to happen to us now.  
  
Truthfully I don’t even know how I feel about him.  
  
He’s always been there for me, he’s always been my best friend, but now..  
  
I think I might be falling for my brother.  
  
It’s so hard to tell though.  
  
I look at him and my heart feels like it’s skipping.  
  
I look at him and my tummy feels warm.  
  
I look at him and I feel like I just want to grab him and share a sleeping bag with him again.  
  
I look at him and I just.. like the way he looks back at me.  
  
He looks at me and I want him to only look at me like that and no one else, ever.  
  
He looks at me and I feel like everything is always going to be alright.


End file.
